


dip your feet every once in a little while

by cesspitshrine



Series: Commissions [7]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: Cunnilingus, Kissing, M/M, Trans Guzma (Pokemon), Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:14:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28697532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cesspitshrine/pseuds/cesspitshrine
Summary: “Get on with it already, we fucking or not?”“We’re doing it right now?” He looks around the trashed room with concerned eyes, his gaze lingering on Guzma’s bed for a little too long as if he’s assessing the damn thing. It’s cute seeing him so spooked, cute enough that Guzma chuckles at him before stepping a little closer, their chests just barely touching.“Ain’t no time like the present.”title is from "When You Were Young" by The Killers
Relationships: Guzma/Mullein | Molayne
Series: Commissions [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035816
Kudos: 10





	dip your feet every once in a little while

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WattStalf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WattStalf/gifts).



> a commission for my buddy Zapp

“Come again?” Guzma asks, even though he heard Molyane just fine the first time. The mile Molayne gives him, small and hesitant as it is, lets Guzma know  _ he _ knows that just as well. He even catches a glint of something all too knowing behind the other man’s glasses, seeing right through him like they’re two dumb kids travelling through the region again. If it was anyone else, Guzma would have kicked them out, but it’s Molayne so that kind of involuntary transparency is expected, even if he doesn’t like it much.

Despite it, Molayne repeats his proposition to Guzma and he has to commend the other man, even if he looks as awkward as ever, completely out of his comfort zone standing here in the gang leader’s bedroom. He knows his grunts are not the most threatening gang members, they’re no Team Rocket that’s for sure, but the rumors that get passed around do enough to paint them as a gang you don’t wanna fuck with at least. To come down here to Po Town from the comforts of the observatory to trek through the rain and make his way past his grunts, it definitely strokes his ego enough to consider hooking up with Molayne again. Not like it’s anything new for them, though, but it has been years and there’s something gnawing at him and making him wonder why Molayane’s here  _ now  _ when plenty of time has passed since the last time they fooled around. Guzma can’t pretend he isn’t interested though. 

“Hmm…” He hums, going so far as to reach up and stroke his chin, leaning back in his throne as he pretends to be deep in thought when he made his decision the first time Molayne asked. “You were tough enough to come here and ask me face to face, so sure… why not?”

Molayne, of all things, looks surprised at his statement and Guzma can’t help rolling his eyes immediately. “The hell did you think I was gonna say?”

He chuckles and brings his arm up to rub the back of his neck, an awkward smile fixed on his face as he chuckles nervously. “Honestly, I thought you were going to laugh at me and kick me out…”

Molayne earns another eye roll from the man in front of him. He can see Guzma’s lips move as he mumbles something too quiet for him to hear before he looks back to him, a lazy smirk coming over his features. “For someone so smart, you really are a fucking idiot sometimes, Mo.”

Despite himself, Molayne can feel his face flush at the other man’s words. As soft he can remember Guzma being when they were younger, he can tell that this might be all he’ll get from him today and decides that he’ll do his best to savor the backhanded compliment rather than hope for anything else. 

With that, Guzma stands, doing his best to not look too eager for whatever Molayne’s got planned in that head of his. For as nervous as he looks, Molyane does not flinch or move away when Guzma comes closer to him, his height not not doing too much to intimidate the other man. Not when Molyane stands a couple inches taller than him when his shit posture is taken into account. If it was anyone else, Guzma would have been pissed off about it by now, but there’s something comforting knowing that Molayne is not so easily intimidated by him, not like everyone else is. The thought travels south, warming his chest and leaving him with a fuzzy feeling burning at his core and he can’t help but hate it as much as he loves it. 

Molayne’s never just been “anyone” and it seems that years apart has not changed that. 

Guzma makes a frustrated noise, a low growl coming up from deep in his chest, as he reaches up and behind Molayane’s neck to pull the other man down into a rough kiss. Or at least he tries. It’s not strong, but there’s enough resistance that Guzma stops completely, leaning away from Molayne to let him talk since he’s so insistent. 

“You backin’ now?” He asks, his face pulling into a condescending sneer. “I ain’t gonna stop you if you wanna leave, Mo.”

Molyane looks like a Deerling caught in headlights at Guzma’s words, as if it’s the silliest thing to accuse him of. It’s reassuring in a way he did not expect.

“No, no… it’s just…” He trails off for a moment, only continuing when Guzma gives the back of his neck a soft squeeze. 

“Get on with it already, we fucking or not?”

“We’re doing it right now?” He looks around the trashed room with concerned eyes, his gaze lingering on Guzma’s bed for a little too long as if he’s assessing the damn thing. It’s cute seeing him so spooked, cute enough that Guzma chuckles at him before stepping a little closer, their chests just barely touching. 

“Ain’t no time like the present.”

It’s painfully obvious he was not expecting this to happen so fast, he’s always been so sappy, asking before doing anything, asking for each kiss and touch and driving Guzma up the wall as he did so. He can already imagine how Molayne was hoping this would go. He’d pop the question and Guzma would say ‘yes’ and Molayne would take him to a hotel, somewhere nicer than the dilapidated mansion he lives in these days. It takes a bit of time, but he can feel Molayne melt under his big hand, his muscles relaxing and his knees bending just enough to make this kiss more comfortable despite their height difference. Guzma can’t ignore the swell of pride that makes him puff up his chest, standing straighter as he does so. 

Despite his initial roughness, the kiss is nothing like that. It’s not soft persay, but it’s not passionate either, it’s just something you’re  _ supposed  _ to do , but that doesn’t stop heat from gathering in the pit of Guzma’s stomach. He pulls back first, Molayne hurrying to catch up with him, his glasses askew, face red and already shining with a light sheen of sweat. It’s a little embarrassing to see how out of shape he is, that one kiss could make his breath so heavily, but there’s a little voice in the back of his head that tells him that there’s something else beneath the surface flustering him and Guzma knows that it is something he wants to ignore for as long as possible. There’s no better way to ignore it than kissing Molayne again, one with some actual bite behind it. 

Kissing him is awfully familiar in a way few things are, memories slipping back to the forefront of his mind as he remembers the little things Molyane likes. His hand slides up the back of his neck to nestle into his hair, toying with the silky strands before tugging gently, stealing a groan from the taller man. He takes the chance to push his tongue into his mouth, taking his time to take him apart as he drags his tongue over the slick inside of his cheek and back behind his teeth, their tongues meeting one another’s. It’s enough to tear a deep groan from Guzma which quickly mixes with the moan that slips past Molayne’s lips, humming against his lips pleasantly. He pushes further into Molayne, making room for himself where there is none as he tilts his head to deepen their kiss. Their teeth clash and click against one another’s but neither of them bother to pull away, both too focused on their kiss and chasing the steady heat that is beginning to spread throughout their bodies. 

It took him a while to build up the courage to reach out to him, never as bold as his old friend, but Molayne’s hands find their place on Guzma’s hips, his hands pushing down against the fabric of his baggy cloth until he can feel his hips against his hands. He anticipates a stutter in Guzma’s movements that never comes, all he gets from the other man is another squeeze to the back of his neck, one that’s a bit rougher than the last and he takes the hint. Guzma hisses against his lips as Molayne slips his hands under his shirt, his cold fingers meeting warm, sweaty skin. He gives him a moment to adjust to his hands before he presses his thumbs into his skin, rubbing teasing circles against his hips before moving upwards, nails dragging as they go, scratching lazy patterns and shapes into his skin as he swallows each little noise Guzma makes at his teasing. 

Any other time he would have found it annoying, just Molayne trying to get under his skin by embarrassing him like that, but right now all his tracing adds to the excitement building inside of him, making his skin tingle pleasantly where his fingernails had just been. He can’t take the teasing for much longer, forced to pull away to catch his breath this time. Even though Guzma’s lost the game he was playing with only himself, he makes sure to nip at Molayne’s bottom lip, now swollen from the force of Guzma’s kissing. Molayne drags his nails once more, forcing a deep moan from Guzma’s throat before, his partner is tired of the dumb game they are playing. 

“This all you plan on doing, Mo?” He says between panting breaths, a playful glint shining deep in his dark eyes. “You gonna tease me until I beg or something? ‘Cos you and I both know that ain’t happening.”

Molayne doesn’t look fazed by his harsh words anymore, his initial nerves settled just enough that he doesn’t look like he’ll piss his pants each time Guzma tosses out his playful jabs. He just leans down to press their sweaty foreheads together and, for some reason, Guzma lets him. A cold stone drops into his stomach, tamping down the heat that has pooled there, as they stand together like this, their hair mused and mixing in with one another’s while they look into each other eyes. Guzma’s throat tightens and his stomach soon follows, twisting into knots over and over the longer they stand like this, like a couple. As if they are two people that love each other for more than meaningless sex. 

Before long, the weight in his stomach is too much to bear and he shoves Molayne off of him, breaking eye contact as he does so. Hurt flashes over the other man’s face, but he isn’t looking at it for long before he is grabbing the hem of his shirt and tugging it off. Guzma tosses it into a corner, not bothering to turn his head as he throws, before sneering at Molayne who is standing there dumbstruck. 

“Hurry up,” He growls, his word making the man jump to and begin taking off his signature blue jacket. “I don’t have all day.”

They undress separately, Molayne not wanting to mess with Guzma’s hair trigger temper by trying to be more intimate again and Guzma trying to keep what distance they can, anticipating just how sappy Molayne’s going to make sex. Guzma’s stripped down to his underwear when he sees that Molayne’s still mostly dressed, only his jacket and tie removed, tucked up away in one of the cleaner areas of Guzma’s room. He doesn’t have to say anything to Molayne, the scientist picking up on the look that he is given and he is quick to explain himself. 

“I… I wanted to do something for _you._ ” _Instead of me,_ goes unsaid. 

Just like that, they’re drifting back into territory that is too close for comfort and Guzma’s hackles are up one more as he glares daggers into the other man. 

“What? You worried you’re gonna embarrass yourself?” He taunts, sauntering up to Molayne, doing his best to lord over him, height difference be damned. Molayne straightens up at the accusation and a thrill races up Guzma’s back, all too excited to see his timid, awkward, nerdy Molayne stand up for himself. It is way too good to see him like this, so different than he remembers him, even if to someone else it might not be a big change at all. “Did ya finally grow a backbone since I’ve been gone?”

His excitement doesn’t last much longer, however. At the mention of his leaving, Molayne deflates just enough that it isn’t even pathetic, depressing is the better word for it, really. Still, he speaks up. 

“I can’t do something for you?” There’s an accusation there somewhere and Guzma isn’t sure what he’s implying. Were all their other hookups something else to Molayne? Was he really caught up in the delusion that  _ he _ didn’t like them? Guzma backs off with a click of his teeth and a roll of his eyes. 

“Whatever…” He says as he makes his way to his bed before turning around and plopping down on the beat up thing. The bed lets out a creak and a whine of protest before Guzma leans back onto his elbows, a smirk sliding across his face. He opens his legs and takes in the way Molayne looks at him, hunger replacing the distant, sad look in his eyes and Guzma lets it stroke his ego just right. His hand slides down his stomach slowly, his fingers combing through his happy trail and all the way down between his legs. He watches as Molayne stares at how he rubs his thumb over his wet slit, a silent invitation soon followed by a not so silent one. 

“Well? Get over here…”

Molayne wastes no time to cross the room to make his way to where Guzma sits, waiting for him with an eager light in his usually threatening eyes. Even now, even when they aren’t eyeing him up as an opponent, someone easy to crush underfoot, he still feels like he’s under a predator’s gaze. Sized up and scrutinized by sharp eyes that are just waiting for him to make a mistake, one misstep is all it will take to lose whatever temporary good graces Molayne has landed himself in. It doesn’t do anything to put out the fire in his stomach or ease the itch under his skin, just begging to be scratched and Molayne sinks to his knees, all nerves and excitement as he positions himself between Guzma’s legs. 

He can feel how Guzma’s legs twitch under his hands when he tucks them under his knees to pull his legs further apart, leaving the other man feeling vulnerable and exposed under his eyes. Molayne pushes his legs up and onto his broad shoulders, his hands sliding higher up Guzma’s thighs as his shoulders take their place under his knees before he leans in, puffs of hot air hitting Guzma’s lips that twitch under each breath. He knows it is involuntary, but that’s what makes it such a nice sight, seeing how eager Guzma’s body is no matter how hard he tries to hide it. His hands move forward, joining him between Guzma’s legs to tease his thumb against his slit, finally getting to feel how wet he is for himself. 

Unfortunately, Guzma’s grown impatient with him, wrapping his legs around him and pulling him closer until his mouth meets his lips and Guzma lets out a quiet moan as his nose bumps against his clit. Molayne leans back as far as he is allowed and licks along Guzma’s dripping slit, not wanting to push his luck anymore. Guzma’s response is immediate, but restrained, a low groan and another encouraging push from his legs. Molayne takes the hint and drags his tongue up again, long and slow as he savors this moment, drawing out more soft whines from Guzma. He moves his tongue up to circle Guzma’s clit slowly, only stopping to flick his tongue against the sensitive spot every once in a while, delighting in how Guzma jumps at the feeling each time. He can feel how Guzma’s inner thighs tense and relax by the side of his head as he pushes deeper into him, his tongue teasing at his hole before he slips his tongue inside of him. Molayne hums softly as he tastes him, pushing his face closer as he drags his tongue against his hot inner walls, taking him apart as he works him over slowly. 

It is not long before that is not enough for Guzma and there is a hand in his hair, tugging as Guzma holds him in place as he rolls his hips, grinding against his face, forcing him to pick up his pace. Molayne does his best to keep up with him, pushing his tongue deeper into Guzma, anything to keep the steady stream of groans and curses coming. It’s slow, but eventually Guzma isn’t grinding against his face so hard and picks up a lazier pace. He takes the chance to slip two fingers into him as he moves higher to suck his clit, spreading his fingers apart before snapping them closed as he stretches him open, drowning in the noises that the other man makes. Guzma’s hips buck and his walls clamp down around his fingers, drawing them in deeper as Molayne focuses on his clit. 

The only warning he is given is Guzma’s grip tightening in his hair that forces him closer and a particularly loud curse before he is cumming in his mouth. Molayne moans as Guzma rolls his hips again, riding the high of his orgasm while Molayne continues dragging his tongue along his folds, eager to catch every drop. He keeps going, intent on cleaning him up until Guzma nudges off of him with his foot, complaining between breaths as he lies there above him, his chest heaving as he pants. 

Guzma closes his eyes for a moment, wanting to escape the look that he is giving him, but it is not long after that he feels the bed dip beside him and he doesn’t have to open his eyes to know that Molayne has joined him. He’d have to be blind to miss how tender Molayne had been with him, or as tender as someone can be when they’re eating someone out, but he didn’t expect him to go so far as to try and cuddle him of all things. He tenses when his spindly arm comes up to hold him close and Molayne is not far behind him, his hold stiffening when he realizes how awkward he has made everything. For as much as Guzma tells himself that this part isn’t necessary, isn’t welcomed, he can’t bring himself to push the other man off or kick him out. So, they just lay there, no pillow talk or anything, just enjoying Molayne’s presence more than he would ever admit. 

**Author's Note:**

> if you got this far please consider leaving a kudos or comment! feel free to hang out with me on twitter [@cesspitshrine!](https://twitter.com/cesspitshrine)


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